In The Shadows
by Marlena Snape
Summary: [Part One: COMPLETE] With Cordelia Chase's death, Angel began to shift downhill. What would this mean for the Champion of Los Angeles, when he returned to a state of mind that was forever haunting? [One shot, BA CO, R&R]


**TITLE:** In The Shadows  
**AUTHOR NAME:** Marlena R. Snape  
**CATEGORY:** Tragedy.  
**SUB-CATEGORY:** Angst.  
**RATING:** R for sexuality and content. Some of the content may not be suitable for suitors under 17 - although there is no explicit scenes involving sex. Just innuendo that can make you think.  
**DISTRIBUTION:** Ask and you might receive.  
**GENRE:** Angel: The Series -AU-  
**CAST:** Various from **Angel: The Series** and** Buffy The Vampire Slayer.**

**Summary:** He started to go downhill with the death of Cordelia Chase, but he never lead on. Angel was the hero, he was the saving grace, and he was going to be the one to save Los Angeles from the final battle. In the end - the only thing it did for him, was turn him away from people - the people who he loved and loved him in return. After Los Angeles was saved, and the entire debacle was fronted as "The Big One", an earthquake, Angel went into isolation.He began changing as he distanced himself from the world, and found himself in a place he was too familiar with, another place of tragedy and heartbreak for him. _Sunnydale_. It had been rebuilt after the last evil had been destroyed, but Buffy was still gone - his first and only true love. Running into a familiar evil, the daughter and childe of his sire, Darla… Mystic, Angel started to slip further into his darkness becoming, until Mystic did the unspeakable, and unconstrained a monster.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own **Angel: The Series **or **Buffy The Vampire Slayer**. I don't own any of the characters written in this story except for one, Mystic. She plays a limited role in the very beginning of this. I'm meaning this to be a one-shot fic, featuring the lyrics of "In The Shadows" by The Rasmus. Lyrics are in italics.

* * *

In Sunnydale, in the woods behind Sunnydale Memorial Cemetery, stood a large manor. It was old Victorian style, with pillars of black marble, a large elegant staircase of marble that lead to double doors of rich cherry wood. It was hidden from those who didn't know it existed, and rarely was stumbled upon by accident. It was called the "Merveilles Mystique", the home of a French mistress vampire named Mystic. The childe of Angel's sire, Darla - from the days of old in France. He was all too familiar with the vixen, and had many-an-encounter with her sweltering body. A vampire of beauty, that was second to none, rich green eyes, long flowing blonde hair, short in stature at five foot four - but that never took away from the exquisiteness of her flawless figure. Any man would be attracted to her. 

Except Angel.

He detested the vixen known as Mystic with all of his being. With all he was worth. She had tried for years to bring him back to the darkness, to bring him back to the place he hated the most. To make him become the person he hated the most. Angelus. She would do whatever it took - from harassing Buffy _just_ to get to him, knowing just how much Angel still loved her, to sending him letters at Wolfram & Hart. But he was back in Sunnydale, alone - but more importantly, trying to remain alone. He found himself at "Merveilles Mystique", right into her grasps. After all that had gone wrong, or right in Los Angeles… Angel just didn't have the fight to go against her. Not with her being a goddess, in literal terms.

"Speak to me," the sultry blonde told him, as her hands traveled down his shoulders to his chest. "Tell me all that ails you…"

"Not now, Mystic." Angel hissed at her, shoving her hands away from him. "I don't know what you want, but I'm not exactly in the mood to find out." Mystic pouted, as she sat down on Angel's lap, looking at him seriously.

"Why do you fight it, my boy?" She asked, as Angel glared at her.

"You're not Darla, so stop trying to be like her." He told her, his tone serious, as she just smiled at him.

"But you remember my mother well, don't you?" She asked, "I mean after all -- when I heard you were rid of my brother…" she trailed off, as Angel grabbed her face with his hand, anger spread across his face.

"DON'T… you EVER speak of Connor." he shouted at her, as Mystic laughed softly, pulling away from him, and stood up. Angel stood right behind her. "You wouldn't understand what it is to love someone so much, you'd send them to a better life to make them happy!"

"Aww, aren't you just a _prince_!" She said sarcastically. "I never did get a chance to meet my dear brother, after all, you sent him to some do-right family who didn't deserve him. I did hear he was quite the gem." she tisked him, shaking her head. "I always knew you were an irresponsible son of a bitch, Angel."

Angel grabbed her my the arms, slamming her against the wall. She laughed softly as she bit her lower lip, looking up at him, a smitten smirk on her face. He wasn't pleased with the way she spoke of his son, or the way she was questioning his love for Connor. It was a slap in the face to him more than anything that she had ever thrown at him. Mystic raised her leg, wrapping it around Angel's form, running down the back of his shapely leg as she smiled deviously up at him.

"I've told you that you're gorgeous when you're angry, haven't I?" Angel growled at her comment, as she giggled. "Aww, you're not going to brood on me now are you? I mean, it could be a night worth your while if you would just relax…"

_No sleep  
No sleep until I am done  
With finding the answer  
Won't stop  
Won't stop before I find  
A cure for this cancer  
I feel I'm going down  
And so disconnected  
Somehow  
I know that I am haunted  
To be wanted_

Angel wasn't one to give into her. As her hands traveled down his chest, her fingers sneaking around the buttons of his black dress shirt, unbuttoning them, she looked up at him. He sighed softly, as he watched her hands, but didn't object to her. He felt as if his fight was long over, and he was no longer a champion to anyone. Much less himself. Mystic leaned in slowly, brushing her pale pink lips against Angel's, not exactly kissing him as much as it was a tease. Angel went to return it, but Mystic pulled away from him.

"You know you can't," She said in a taunting voice. "What would happen to Monsieur Angel if you had your moment of happiness?"

"What's left, Mystic? Answer me that, honestly…" Angel said grimly. "What is there to fight for anymore?"

"There's nothing to fight for, don't deny me… and don't deny this opportunity…" Mystic said, as she kissed along his jaw line. "Don't struggle against the unavoidable…"

Angel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. Mystic wrapped her arms around Angel's neck as she put her legs around his waist, and he pressed her against the wall. For the first time in over a century, Angel was giving himself willingly to this woman. The last time, was while he was still with Darla, behind a barn in the English countryside while Darla was out on her own. Mystic leaned in, her lips pressing against Angel's, which he returned her kiss hungrily, his hands tugging through her long blonde hair, pulling her closer to him.

She slipped off his shirt, dropping it to the floor behind him with a giggle, her back leaning against the wall as he looked at her, lust in his eyes. Angel put his hands on her hips, as he forced her to stand up on her own, and she looked confused. He grabbed her top at the dangerously low v-neck, and with a rip, took it off her, which made Mystic smiled wider. She didn't even have a chance to make it to her bedroom with him, as the sitting room seemed to fit him just fine.

"Are you sure…" she started, as his hands traveled over her body, making her coo softly into his ear. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Don't talk, you'll just ruin the moment." Angel said calmly. He wasn't even fully effected yet, until Mystic grabbed the belt of his pants, pulling his body against hers.

"And don't be an asshole, that's a turn off." She told him, as she proceeded to rip and claw at his belt buckle, unlatching it. "Just answer yes or no, and I'll either make your dreams come true, or you'll be out on your ass…"

Angel took a voluntary breath in, as he leaned his head back against the sofa that they had stumbled onto, and were undressing in the midst. She pulled off his belt, and unzipped his pants, removing them from his body. It was a long moment, before Angel looked up at her, as her long painted fingernails traced down his bare chest, and he closed his eyes finally.

"………Yes."

_I've been watching  
I've been waiting  
In the shadows all my time  
I've been searching  
I've been living  
For tomorrows all my life  
In the shadows  
In the shadows _

The next thing Angel knew, is he was waking up. Where was he? What had happened? He sat up slowly, a sheet covering his lower half, as he was in a bedroom. He glanced around, noting the walls of vampirism inspired murals, dark art, and various accents. He noted he had no clothing on beneath the sheet, and stood up, wrapping it around his body. What the hell had happened, exactly? He couldn't remember for sure. He heard a door open, and he quickly got back into bed, covering himself up once more. The bedroom door opened, and a familiar figure leaned against the doorframe, dressed in a revealing red satin cowlneck gown that had slits up either side clean up to the hip.

"Sleep well, my boy?" Mystic asked, as she crawled into the bed with him, and Angel looked at her, a little groggy.

"What happened? What did you do to me?"

"What did I do… to you?" She repeated his question, amusement in her voice. "I brought **you** back, my lovely. Give it the night, and you'll be as good as new…"

"You're lying." he said flatly.

"Correction. I _was_ lying, on top of you." Mystic chortled, as she ran her hands along his bare chest. "I wasn't exactly just lying there though, you understand."

"Nothing happened." He was either in denial, or a step beyond it.

"Are you going senile in your old age, beautiful?" she asked, as Angel just looked at her offly.

"I didn't experience the happiness," he said, but Mystic smirked wickedly, as she stood up.

"Angel, my love - I would be surprised if you didn't wake my neighbors with how loud you were yelling." She mocked what he might have sounded like, "_Oh Mystic, oh yes babe right there, oh I'm there_!" she laughed softly, shaking her head. "I guess a few years of not getting any _really_ can do a number on a boy…it wasn't even that good for me."

She laughed quietly as she walked to the bedroom door, the neighbors she spoke of were the dead in the graveyard, and lingered in the doorway at him. He was a little stunned by what she had said, and was trying to remember. Why couldn't he? Mystic walked out of the bedroom, and as it would be - it was the last time that Angel would see her. He dressed quickly, putting on his black pants, putting on his black dress shirt, and shoes, then grabbed his leather duster. He needed to get out of that house, no matter the cost.

He slipped out through a tunnel in the den. It lead to the underground, which was just what he needed with it still being daylight outside. He sat in the darkness of the tunnel, after he walked for almost an hour out of the sunlight - and just being alone. He couldn't believe he had given into weakness, but nothing had happened. He didn't feel any different. Maybe it was only with someone he loved? That could have been, because he didn't lose his soul with Darla, either. Ah, but he was sadly mistaken. Night came, and Angel was sitting in the tunnel, half asleep. His eyes opened straight away - and he felt his chest tighten. He clutched his chest, squinting from the pain, that arched out over his face.

"No…please…" Angel whimpered to himself, closing his eyes tightly. "Not now…"

_They say  
That I must learn to kill  
Before I can feel safe.  
But I  
I'd rather kill myself  
Than turn into their slaves  
Sometimes  
I feel that I should go  
And play with the thunder  
Somehow  
I don't wanna stay  
And wait for a wonder. _

Angel curled into the fetal position, clutching his knees to his chest. His body rocked, shivered in pain as he yelled out into the darkness and silence of the underground. He flailed around on the cold cement of the tunnel, his skin clammy and his mind racing, no… it couldn't be happening. He didn't love her! She meant nothing to him, Mystic was only ever a quick roll and lay, that was it. Thoughts ran swiftly through the vampire's head as he cried out in pain, his forehead against the ground, and his body arched up. He was feeling as if all of him was being sucked out through an invisible straw. Like he was fighting a losing battle - he felt tainted. Poisoned. He couldn't do anything about it either.

Then… there was silence.

The dead hush of nothingness. Angel's eyes were closed, and a momentary death occurred for the vampire, almost as if for the first time he had been sired, and reborn into a world of darkness, death, and murderous tendencies that would forever plague him into eternity. It was in fact like that. An hour - or three had passed since he began experiencing the pain, and having his - what Mystic would have referred to as - conniption fit, and his eyes opened again. Slowly sitting up, and then standing - he felt weak in the knees momentarily, as he clutched the wall. He glanced around, and the vampire's eyebrow poised in questioning fashion.

"How in the hell did I get in this slump?" he questioned, brushing himself off once he could gain his composure. "Soul boy's standards have _clearly_ decreased since I remember."

It was all he said to himself as he began walking, following the tunnel. It lead him out by a Sunnydale club called "The Bronze Revival", the **only** club in town. After the town was rebuilt, the club owners decided to change the name ever-so-slightly, as it was a new and improved Sunnydale. What he didn't expect was a party going on at this club, that was something of a "welcome back" party.

Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris, Buffy Summers, Dawn Summers, Rupert Giles, the entire 'Scooby gang' of old who still remained alive after fighting the Last Evil, gathered. With familiar faces such as Faith, who was back to her single ways after her sexcapades with Robin Wood, and ripping up the dance floor like a sensual goddess deprived, in dangerously low cut leather pants and a black lace up corset that hugged her curves, her long hair flowed down her back like a curly, chocolate waterfall, caressing her sinfully inviting body with every move the girl made. Buffy walked up, dressed modestly in a pair of blue jeans and a white and pink trimmed "I Bite, Rawr" baby-tee, grabbing Faith's shoulder. Faith turned around quickly, looking down to see Buffy looking at her.

"Oh, it's just you - B. What's up?"

"Well, we're just about to cut Dawn's birthday cake. Do you want some?" Buffy asked, her lightly painted pink lips turning into a pout. Faith's lip curled into a smirk.

"Sure, kid. You know I'm a sucker for chocolate, in all ways and forms." Faith chuckled at Buffy's reaction. "As if you didn't know that."

"No, I had a vague idea… I was just trying to ignore that little detail."

Angelus watched from the upper level, staying in the darkness of hiding. He had found a clothing shop before going to the club, after all - a man _had_ to look his best for this type of re-emergence. After a wardrobe upgrade and dinner (how could he resist the cute little clerk at the store, who was just drooling at his feet?) Angelus knew he was ready. Decked in black leather pants, with a silk midnight blue button up shirt and black leather duster, he was Angelus reborn, how he should be. As he watched from the balcony, he noticed Buffy's expression. She had an uneasy look written all over her face.

The sound of "happy birthday" rang out through the club, as Dawn Summers sat happily at the table, taking it all in. She felt important, that all of her friends and her sister had accepted her into the scoobies, and were willing to train her in become like her sister. A slayer. Angelus watched, mimicking to himself the happy birthday song.

"Happy FUCKING birthday, to you…" he rolled his eyes, as he grumbled to himself. "Let's all center our UN-DI-VIDED, attention on mini-Buffy, shall we?" He shook his head, annoyance written all over his face. "I had just _hoped_ the hell mouth had swallowed each of those little goodie goodie bitches up. Can't even do one thing right…"

_I've been watching  
I've been waiting  
In the shadows all my time  
I've been searching  
I've been living  
For tomorrows all my life  
Lately I've been walking  
Walking in circles  
Watching, waiting for something  
Feel me  
Touch me  
Heal me  
Come take me higher. _

Angelus walked down the balcony a short ways, still watching the moves the scoobies made. If the Hellmouth couldn't suck them up and get rid of them, what could? What would? He expected to come back to a freedom-fighter-free world, but he didn't exactly that luxury. It wasn't right, he knew it. That's why he was back, he had to fix things! He glanced around, momentarily, knowing that in the days-of-old, Mystic would spend many a night there, trying to pick up unsuspecting suckers with her sultry pout, her gorgeous body - his mind was trailing to the gutter, nothing so unusual.

When Faith got up from the table, tossing her paper plate in the garbage, she was drawn back to the dance floor. It was where she seemed to be the most comfortable in any situation. As Angelus leaned on the railing of the balcony, watching the secondary slayer's hips move to the beat of "Caught Up" by Usher, a smirk came over his face. She still had it in her to make his mind wander and his temperature figuratively rise. As her hips swayed, her body dipped, and her hands traveled along her unspoiled form, he ran his tongue along his lips, moistening them lightly.

"Damn is it good to be home," Angelus quipped to himself, but his expression dropped as he watched Buffy walk over to Faith. "Now let's just **ruin** all my fun…"

Faith stopped dancing momentarily, yet again, as Buffy was looking around nervously. Had she felt his presence? Faith too, took a moment to look around, before shrugging it off.

"Look, chick… you can worry about all those crazy creeps that bump in the night, but the only thing bumping tonight is me, got that? I'm not on call tonight, and neither should you be."

"Faith," Buffy said, before sighing. "Fine. But I'm warning you, there's something here…" As Buffy walked away from her, Faith laughed to herself.

"There's _always_ something here. Melodramatic slayer is an out fashion, B."

He just sat there in wake, watching. Angelus had a lot to catch up on, he knew this, and that was going to take him at least a month of Sundays. Metaphorically speaking, of course. The next night, he laid low - his intention was to make Buffy feel as if Faith was right, she was being paranoid. But two nights removed from the club, while Buffy was outside of 1630 Revello Drive, sitting on the front porch of the newly built house - she looked to be in deep thought. Most of it revolved around why she had come back to Sunnydale after they rebuilt it. She should have just stayed in England, and traveled, and lived a normal life. She was drawn back to the spot that took everything away from her.

Angelus stood off, across the street a few houses down, watching her. Every move the slayer made, he knew about it. From every breath, every shift in placement in her seat, almost to every last heartbeat, his attention was centered. If looks could kill - Buffy Anne Summers would have had a hole the size of the Pacific Ocean right through her chest. She wouldn't have been there. Buffy felt eyes on her, and looked up quickly, her dark eyes darting around as she searched the darkness. What she saw, almost made her heart stop. He must have wanted to be saw, as Angelus stood there, his hands deep in his leather duster, his eyes still on her, the expression on his face somber.

"…A-A-Angel…?" the blonde slayer stammered in a whisper, closing her eyes a moment. Reopening them, she saw nothing but the blackness of night.

Buffy's heart was pounding, as she slowly stood up, and went to back up, but she ran into something. Spinning around quickly, her fist poised, but dropped quickly when she saw who was standing there. Faith was standing in front of Buffy, looking at her as if she had gone and lost whatever of her mind was left.

"Yo, B… easy does it, what's got you so jumpy?"

"He's here…" Faith raised an eyebrow to Buffy's start, "Angel…he's here…" Buffy blurted out, as Faith glanced around casually.

"He's reduced to playing childish games then, eh?" she asked, "I don't see him, is he hiding behind the tree? Under the stairs? Maybe he's peeking out from behind a car… ooh…"

"Faith, stop joking around!" Buffy snapped at her - "I just SAW him!" she gestured out into the night across the street, "I saw him, over there… he's here, and if you don't believe me, FINE. But I'm going to find him…"

"Hey, whatever floats your boat, B. But when you're done your little fantasy, Red needs your help on something."

Faith walked back into the house, chuckling to herself, and making a specific note in mind of just how 'fucked up' Buff was in the head. Buffy sighed to herself as she looked off into the darkness, she didn't see him anymore. Was she seeing things? Or was he really there? She just trudged up the steps leading up to the house again, and walked inside. Maybe Faith was actually right -- there was no sense of trailing after a fantasy that couldn't be reached. She was probably wishful thinking.

_I've been watching  
I've been waiting  
In the shadows  
all my time  
I've been searching  
I've been living  
For tomorrows  
All my life. _

The games continued, and Angelus was having a laugh of it. But the games were picked up by more than just Buffy however, but Faith was starting to come along. She knew Buffy couldn't be totally mental, although there was that one time wh- well, it was better to not go into detail or think too much into it. Faith could have made a very valid case against the blonde slayer. She went out alone almost a week after Buffy had her close encounter of the invisible Angel kind, and ventured to the nearby cemetery. It seemed to have been one of the only things salvaged in Sunnydale when the entire place went downhill. Literally.

With every move that Faith took, the leather of her pants creaked quietly in the night. The only other sound was her black heeled boots grinding into the gravel of the path below her feet, and the wind rustling through the trees. As she walked, she had a stake rested comfortably in the belt of her pants. She wasn't as on-edge about things as Buffy was lately, in fact, Faith was the most laid back of all of them after Buffy told them her sob story about coming face to face so to speak with Angel.

"Soul boy, here, yeah - right." Faith muttered to herself. "He didn't even make it out of L.A…"

But Faith's tune changed dramatically when she was jumped. The slayer was thrown to the ground, causing her stake to stab slightly into her side. With a grunt, Faith used her foot and arms to monkey flip her assailant to the ground, and after pulling her own stake from her side, she raised it, ready to strike. That was until she saw who was laying on the ground, lounging almost comfortably, as he looked up at her.

"Hey there, Faith." Angelus said coolly, as Faith looked a little shocked.

"So B isn't seeing things," Faith said, shaking her head a bit. "Mother fucker, how did you survive in LA? Nobody, and yeah - I mean no-…" Angelus cut her off.

"Aww, so loved." Angelus quipped, as he slowly stood up, pulling a cigarette from his pocket as he looked her over not-so-subtly. "You seem a little, surprised to see me..."

"Alive…" Faith griped.

"Easy does it, hell cat - I might take that the wrong way." He said, "I mean, look at you. Your attitude has dropped incredibly…"

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?" Faith asked in an aggravated tone, as Angelus just smiled at her.

"You're not on your top game. I mean after all, you _are_ bleeding right? Your own fault." He said, "It's no wonder you're only the second best slayer in this little operation. You could never be number one."

"Oh you son of a bitch…"

"What?" Angelus mocked a gasp. "I'm sorry? Didn't you know? I mean after all, I got word all the way back in LA that your fuckbuddy Wood left you, because you could never match up to Buffy. Isn't this a sad life you lead, Faith? Always being held back by that blonde bitch like she was some kind of, god or something…" He grinned, he could feel her anger growing. "Don't get mad, Faithy, get even. It folds better for you in the end."

Faith went to strike out against Angelus with a punch, but he grabbed her fist in the palm of his hand, leaning his face closer to her as he laughed quietly. His face was taunting to the rogue slayer, but his words nailed her like a painful punch of reality. Angelus just smirked to himself, as he looked down at her. He still held her balled fist hand in his, as he looked down at her, backing her toward a nearby catacomb.

"Truth's a bitch, isn't it - Faith?"

"Almost as big of a bitch as you are, Angel." Faith retorted, as Angelus slammed Faith against the cement wall of the mausoleum, hard enough to shake her up, looking down into her eyes with a mix of amusement and anger on his face.

"You say that name like you _believe_ it," Angelus said as he leaned closer to her, pressing his body against hers as he held her arms above her head. "I mean, it's a little more than ironic we should both be experiencing changes…"

"No fuckin' way…" Faith said, as she looked up at him, struck. "There's no way."

"Oh but there's ALWAYS a way, Faith!" Angelus said with a dark chuckle, his hand traveling down her side, his arm sliding around her waist. With his hand on her backside, Angelus pulled her body to him, his face near her neck as he took a breath. Faith sighed softly. "I thought you most of all would understand that…"

"Yeah…" Faith said, as she was trying to ignore Angelus' advances. God knew the girl hadn't had a good time since she had been with the Scoobies. With all those little Slayers in Training who needed their 4-1-1, and Buffy's delusional ranting… Faith was a sitting duck to them. She bit her lower lip softly as Angelus moved his hand from her backside, gripping her hip softly. "What do you want? Why are you back?" _Uh huh, real smooth _- she scolded herself silently.

"I'm back for more than one thing," Angelus said quietly. "Although I admit, I wasn't expecting to meet up with you. It's taken me a bit… unsuspectingly."

_I've been watching  
I've been waiting  
I've been searching  
I've been living for tomorrows  
In the shadows_

Angelus hovered his face over Faith's, and Faith just looked up at him, her chest heaving breaths. Without warning, Angelus crushed his lips against the brunette slayer's cold, trembling lips, leading her into a passionate kiss. At first Faith hesitated, but finally conceded into temptation, returning his kiss feverishly. Angelus hoisted Faith up, one of his hands still holding her arms against the crypt, while the other held her hip, as her leg wrapped around his waist.

Something about Faith being bad intoxicated Angelus, it always had. She was above spending her time with Buffy and those obnoxious scoobies, wasn't she? Or had she turned to a place she never really was a part of? Angelus pushed his body against hers, and Faith was receptive to his advances, her body grinding willingly against his. He grinned quietly to himself, as he glanced around slowly, before unzipping Faith's pants, and dropping them slightly. He wasn't going to completely expose her in public, but he was going to show the rogue **exactly** what she was missing.

"Just say no…" Angelus said, as Faith shook her head, reaching for his pants.

"Not a chance," Faith said as she was successful in unlatching his belt. "Slaying always makes me hungry and horny. I'll settle for relief to one of the two."

That was that. A crow cawed from a tree above, as Faith's yells became louder - to almost screaming, during quite the disrespectful act to the dead in the graveyard. Angelus didn't rightfully care at that given moment, he just wanted to prove that Faith wasn't destined to be good - she was destined to be bad. After they were finished, Angelus put Faith back to her own two feet, adjusting his zipper. He started to walk away, and Faith looked a little offended.

"Hey, fang boy, where are you running off to?" she asked, as Angelus turned around.

"I can't waste my time on some good girl, _you know_." He said, his expression serious as he looked at her, adjusting his duster. "That was just to show you what you're missing. You might want to run back to Buffy now, she might think the worst of you and move on. Wouldn't that be a tragedy…"

That was that. All Angelus said to her as he walked away. The creaking of the gate was all Faith heard as he left the graveyard, leaving Faith shocked, stunned, and also a little hurt by his actions and words. They weren't physical pain, but more emotional. Angelus always knew how to make her question where she stood, but what he said previously to her, all had truth. She was always second best, and she was always treated as "Slayer junior" next to Buffy - and secretly, that ate at her.

Angelus knew he had already began Faith's breakdown. He smirked to himself as he walked down the dimly lit street, heading toward the place he had been staying. His old mansion in town. It wasn't exactly like the one he lived in all those years ago, but it was in fact similar. It was a taste of home. Since he saw Faith in his return, he wanted to prove to her she wasn't pure and innocent as she was trying to play off as. He knew the **real** Faith Wilkins, and was just _dying_ to bring her back out. Whether he succeeded that night or not was one thing, but he did get what he was after. She was all but bound to him now, her mind would drift back to what they had done in that graveyard, and Angelus would haunt her thoughts. He would dance in her shadows, and taunt at her worst fears.

Just like he still did to Buffy.

_In the shadows  
**I've been waiting**._


End file.
